


I'm Still Imagining a Dark Lit Place

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hair Brushing, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, OT3, Other, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 05:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20384170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ligur trusted Michael, though. And he loved her. And Ligur gave his love so freely. He was charming and passionate, and Hastur knew he had enough love to go around, in theory. But he’d never had to share Ligur’s affection before, or his attention. It left him feeling unsure and wrongfooted, and rough around the edges.





	I'm Still Imagining a Dark Lit Place

Hastur was sitting in Michael’s lap while she brushed his hair. He had told her it didn’t matter. He’d never brushed his hair, and if he wanted it neat, he could miracle it neat anyway. But she had pulled him into her lap anyway, despite his protests, and it felt good, it was nice.

He didn’t want to say that it felt nice, of course.

It was very new, the three of them--himself, Ligur, and Michael. Together.

“Don’t squirm,” Michael said, gently.

“Or what?” Hastur wriggled in her lap just to make a point. “You trying to make me prettier?”

Michael set the brush down by her side and rubbed her slender fingers along Hastur’s thighs. Hastur bit his lip, and he turned to press his face to her shoulder.

“Shouldn’t we wait for Ligur?” he asked.

“We can.” She wrapped her arms around his slim waist. “I’m only trying to spend some time with you.”

“What, you want to get to know me better?” he said, bitterly. Ligur was the one who was good at talking to people. Ligur was the glue holding them together. Without him here, Hastur felt flustered and nervous. He shouldn’t be. She was his, well, she was his _something_.

“Why not?”

Hastur whined into her suit jacket. “Why not? How about the fact that you’re a bloody angel? How about the fact that this ain’t all exactly above board?”

Michael rubbed a hand along his back. He’d taken his jacket off earlier, and he was only in his shirt and trousers.

“Do you think the things I do aren’t calculated?” Michael said thoughtfully. “I considered this for a long time. ‘Above board’ isn’t something you need to worry about.”

Hastur didn’t know how to read her. She wasn’t open, like Ligur was. She talked like she had inside information. Her eyes were prone to sharp looks. And she was beautiful, like Ligur was, but not in the same way. 

“Are you scared?” Michael asked, when Hastur didn’t answer.

Hastur picked his head up and stared at her, their faces nearly close enough to touch, his inky eyes widening.

“Of course I am!” He snarled. She wasn’t there when Ligur had been hit by the holy water. She wasn’t there to hear his screams. Never mind that he was back in one piece now, brought back by the antichrist’s mercy, of all things. She would never know the terror that lurked in the back of Hastur’s mind, that if he did the wrong thing, if they got in trouble again, that Ligur could suffer the same fate again. And permanently, this time.

Ligur trusted Michael, though. And he loved her. And Ligur gave his love so freely. He was charming and passionate, and Hastur knew he had enough love to go around, in theory. But he’d never had to share Ligur’s affection before, or his attention. It left him feeling unsure and wrongfooted, and rough around the edges.

“Nothing will happen,” Michael said, meeting his gaze with quiet confidence. 

“You can’t be sure.”

“Can’t I?” Michael’s voice took on a smugness that made Hastur turn away.

“You don’t know what it’s like, for us. You’ve been up top, looking down on us for ages, and you want me to think that I shouldn’t worry about consequences? Maybe you don’t have to worry, spending all your time in the light, above us.”

He felt Michael shift beneath him, her strong thighs firm and solid, her arms pulling him tight against her. He was still sitting in her lap, for Hell’s sake. Of course she wasn’t taking him seriously.

Then Michael let her wings out, letting them hover over him, and she kissed the shell of his ear.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she said, softly.

“And Ligur?”

“As safe as houses.”

Hastur let her turn him around and kiss him, her shimmering lips pressing lightly against his own. She didn’t push him, but let him get used to the sensation. Slowly, he reached a gloved hand up to her hair, and touched, with only his fingertips. 

The sound of a door opening, and subsequent footsteps, announced Ligur’s arrival.

“Is that Hastur underneath your wings, love?” Ligur asked. “Only I’m not sure I recognize him.”

Hastur turned and removed himself from her lap, standing and going to greet Ligur immediately.

“She brushed my hair,” he said, insinuating himself into Ligur’s space. “You should mess it up again.”

Ligur chuckled, kissing Hastur on his cheek, and his lips, and tugging his shirt from where it was tucked in his trousers so he could place a hand directly to the small of his back. “Yeah? Would you like that?”

Hastur wanted to glance at Michael, to see what she thought of the attention he was getting, but he didn’t want to stop getting kissed.

But then Ligur was walking him backwards towards Michael anyway. Her wings were still out, and Ligur sat next to her and pulled Hastur on top of him, so that he was once again under the canopy of Michael’s wings.

“I should stretch mine, as well,” Ligur said, and he let his wings join the umbrella of Michael’s.

“Oh,” Hastur said, and it was easy enough to reach out and stroke a hand against one, from his position straddling Ligur’s hips.

“You could get yours out too, sweetheart,” Ligur whispered against his temple.

It was enough to fill Hastur with panic, and he shook his head wildly, his carefully brushed hair falling in his eyes.

“You know how I feel about that,” he said, feeling even worse because Michael could hear him, could hear the tremors in his voice.

“Sorry, love,” Ligur said. “I only thought it would be nice to see them. I wasn’t thinking.”

Michael, for her part, had the grace not to ask, and for that, Hastur felt a surge of fondness welling up within him. He didn’t like taking out his wings, and only did it once in a great while, and only in the cover of darkness when he was sure that he and Ligur were alone and wouldn’t be interrupted. He knew Ligur didn’t care what they looked like, but Hastur was ashamed of the damage, the incompleteness of them. Nothing like Michael’s, or Ligur’s, nothing that he could be proud of as a Duke of Hell. 

He was proud of a good many other things--his work, for one. Ligur was always complimenting him on his craftsmanship.

Hastur was pretty good in the sack, too.

“It’s fine,” Hastur muttered, wanting to forget about it already.

He watched as Ligur and Michael shared a kiss. She was different with him, more direct, more willing to take the lead. It wasn’t as if Hastur couldn’t see his feelings growing for Michael. He absolutely could, and it terrified him. 

“_Adorable_,” Hastur simpered, attempting to wreck the moment with sarcasm.

Unfortunately, neither of them took the bait. When they pulled away from each other, Ligur grabbed a handful of his arse and squeezed, and then began kissing at Hastur’s neck.

“You’re a menace,” Ligur teased. “What am I going to do with you?”

_Love me_, Hastur thought desperately. _And don’t stop loving me. Not for her. Not for anyone._

Outwardly, he groaned, grabbing onto Ligur’s shoulders.

“Hastur,” Michael said, reaching out and letting her fingers trail along the side of his face tenderly. “Okay, gorgeous?”

“I--.” Hastur gulped, feeling his face get warm. Gorgeous? “What--I’m not--.”

“You like it, really,” Ligur said. “You know you do.”

“Oh, shut it.” Hastur hid his smile by kissing him again. It was a genius strategy, with obvious perks.


End file.
